"What does my brother want? What is his name?" asked don Pedro.
"El Zopilote is an Apache brave," replied the redskin; "the _sachem_ of his tribe sends him to the chief of the palefaces."
"I am the chief of the palefaces. Tell your mission to me."
"Hear what the Tigercat says," replied the immoveable Apache.
"The Tigercat!" exclaimed Don Pedro greatly astonished; "What can he want of me?"
"If my father will listen, El Zopilote will tell him."
"Thus says the Tigercat: a cloud has arisen between the Tigercat and the chief of the palefaces, who have come into the hunting grounds of my tribe. As the beneficent rays of the sun disperse the clouds that obscure the heavens, so, if wise paleface will smoke the calumet of peace with the Tigercat, the cloud between them will disappear, and the war hatchet be buried so deep, that it shall not be found again for a thousand moons and ten. I have said: I await the answer of my father with the beard of snow."
"Indian!" replied Don Pedro, in accents of sadness, "Your chief has done me much harm, yet I know not the cause of his hatred to me. But Heaven forbid I should reject his proposal, if he entertains the wish to end the difference existing between us. Bid him come; and say I am ready to offer reparation for injury I may have done him without my will or knowledge."
The Apache listened with evident attention to the words of the hacendero. When the latter ceased, he answered: "_Wagh!_ My father has spoken well. Wisdom has taken up her abode in him. The chief will come; but who will insure his safety when in the camp of the palefaces,--he alone, with twenty _Yarri_ (Spanish) braves around him!"
"My word of honour, redskin; my word of honour,--which is worth more than all your chief could give me," said Don Pedro haughtily.
"My father's word is good; his tongue is not forked. The Tigercat asks no more; he will come."
Having uttered these words with Indian emphasis, the Apache warrior bowed profoundly, and retired with the same quiet step which marked his coming.
"What do you think of that Luciano?" said Don Pedro, as soon as they were alone.
"By Heavens, señor! I think it conceals some Indian devilry. I fear the white who changes his colour, and turns redskin, a hundred times words than the true Indian. I never liked chameleons."